


As You Wish

by AliceLiddle



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Compulsion Spells, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Simon Snow, Spells Gone Wrong, The Princess Bride is excellent source material for spells, Watford Eighth Year, and a bit more fluff!, hopelessly in love Baz Pitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceLiddle/pseuds/AliceLiddle
Summary: "“Pour your own tea,” I say, as my hand grabs for the teapot and tips it into a cup against my will. I can tell that I must look gobsmacked. Penny has an identical look on her own face, but Baz just continues on unfazed, smirking the tiniest bit.“Three sugars, please, Snow.” I don’t think Baz has ever said please to me in his entire life, yet it still feels like he hasn’t, because, even as I tell him to get his own sugar and choke on it, my hand adds a ridiculous amount of sugar to the cup."When Simon's magic backfires and he casts a compulsion spell without realizing it, he's forced to follow all of Baz's orders until he can find a way to break the spell. Baz is less pleased than expected.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 57
Kudos: 434





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A million and one thanks to my wonderful beta Amy, who is an absolute genius and also loves all the ridiculous things these boys do. ([waterwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings) on ao3 and [@amywaterwings](https://amywaterwings.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!)
> 
> This fic is entirely written, and I will be posting new chapters as I finish editing them - hopefully every few days, but as I've only ever posted fics all at once, I don't want to promise a specific posting schedule just yet.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Simon**

Baz is such a prick.

He’s grumbling at me from under the covers he’s pulled over his head, acting like it’s  _ my _ fault that I tripped over the shoes he kicked back onto my side of the room after I went to bed last night. It’s his own fault that I woke him up this morning (I wouldn’t have tripped if it weren’t for him). But now he’s awake, and the mornings where Baz wakes up while I’m still in the room are the  _ worst _ . Some days I can make it down to breakfast before he wakes up, but on days like today, when he wakes up too early and is cranky, he always takes his bad mood out on me.

“Close the bloody window, Snow, it’s too bright and it’s too cold!”

There’s no way he can feel the breeze or see any light under his mountain of blankets, so I decide that I can be petty too.

“As you wish, your highness.” I punctuate my sarcasm by slamming the window as hard as I possibly can. He shoots straight up in his bed, his hair an absolute riot.

“What.  _ The fuck _ .”

I give him the most innocent look I can muster. “You asked me to close the window, didn’t you? I’m just doing what you wanted.”

He looks murderous. I think he might be contemplating breaking something, but I don’t really have anything that would be worth the effort. Unfortunately, he seems to realize that, and decides to exact his revenge in a much better way – he gets out of bed and stalks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and sending the clear message that I’m going to be late for breakfast because he intends to keep me from getting ready.

Fine. If that’s how he wants this morning to go, I can certainly rise to the challenge.

“Hey, Baz?” I know he can hear me through the door, but the tosser doesn’t respond. “Baz? I can’t find my Greek homework, so I’m just going to copy yours while you get ready, okay?”

The door flies open, hitting the wall behind it.

“Stay out of my things, Snow!”

“Stay out of the bathroom,” I mumble, shoving past him to brush my teeth. He tries to shove me away, so I spit into the sink and grab his toothpaste before he can reach it.

“Why are you acting like such a child? Give me my toothpaste.” Baz is exasperated way earlier than usual, and for once I feel like I might have the upper hand. If we have to fight to the death (I really don’t want to, but still, if we do) I hope the battle is early in the morning. Baz is  _ not _ a morning person, and even with whatever extra abilities he has as a vampire, I feel like I could take him if we fought right after he woke up. Before he had a chance to slick back his hair and stuff. It looks better down anyway, so he’d leave a nicer corpse. With that in mind, I hold his toothpaste farther away and grab for his hair gel too.

“What are you doing? You absolute imbecile, why do you have to be so difficult?” He’s seething and I’m trying not to laugh openly at his hair. I decide to play dumb, since that’s how he sees me.

“What do you want, Baz?” I try to lean casually against the wall as I start playing with the cap on his toothpaste, loosening it and tightening it.

“Just give me my toothpaste so I can brush my teeth, you fucking numpty!”

“Is that all you want? Fine, then.  **_As you wish!_ ** ” I’m so excited, I can feel the magic buzzing under my skin, and I think it’s because of that that when I squeeze the tube so that the loosened lid flies off, the toothpaste explodes and squirts all over Baz’s silk pajamas. I tear out of the room immediately, grabbing my backpack and shoes before running down the stairs, laughing the whole way.

It’s nice to win for once.

**Baz**

Simon is a moron. A lovely, god-like, unpredictable, enticing, reality-defying moron. It was so easy to hate him this morning (no matter how much I love him I will always want to kill him at least a little bit when he wakes me up), but then he went and did  _ that _ .

**_As you wish_ ** is a tricky spell, and one that can only be cast if you’re passionately in love with the person you’re casting it for. It forces the caster to do the bidding of the other mage until they either fulfill their greatest desire, or until they kiss their beloved, and it only works if both parties have seen  _ The Princess Bride _ . Unfortunately for me, Simon was the one who cast it, without a wand, and seemingly without any intent to do so. I think he’s completely unaware there was any magic behind his words at all. And, since his magic doesn’t work like the rest of ours, there’s a chance that this might just be an entirely different spell that only he controls the rules of.

I can’t let myself even consider what it would mean if Simon were actually in love with me. I can’t think about him kissing me because he wants to. I can’t imagine him doing what I ask because he’s bound by anything other than magical obligation. That would be too painful. But still, I suppose I should at least attempt to find out what sort of spell he’s cast.

**Simon**

When Baz finally makes it down to breakfast, I’ve just finished regaling Penny with the story of my epic victory this morning, and I’m a little disappointed that Baz doesn’t have any remaining toothpaste on him. Penny just shook her head and sighed the entire time I was talking and told me that both of us needed to grow up, but I’m still pretty proud of myself. Unfortunately, Baz seems determined to exact his revenge immediately, and heads straight for Penny and my table as soon as he walks through the double doors. I throw a panicked glance at Penny, but her expression says it clearly:  _ You’re on your own Simon, you deserve it _ .

Baz marches over, and I stand up on instinct, ready for a fight.

“Sit down, Snow, I’m not the queen.” He rolls his eyes and I sit down, almost without thinking about it.

“What do you want?” I demand.

He seems to consider for a moment, before simply declaring. “Tea. I would like some tea.”

I can tell that he’s trying to act casual, but I’ve been watching him for the last seven years and I know his tells. He’s waiting for something.

“What?”

“I want tea. Pour me a cup of tea, Snow.”

Entitled prick. There’s no way I’m going to start doing what he tells me to now.

“Pour your own tea,” I say, as my hand grabs for the teapot and tips it into a cup against my will. I can tell that I must look gobsmacked. Penny has an identical look on her own face, but Baz just continues on unfazed, smirking the tiniest bit.

“Three sugars, please, Snow.” I don’t think Baz has ever said please to me in his entire life, yet it still feels like he hasn’t, because, even as I tell him to get his own sugar and choke on it, my hand adds a ridiculous amount of sugar to the cup.

“You cursed me! What did you do?” Is this his master plan? Did I annoy him enough this morning that he finally decided to put his plot into effect? Is he simply going to tell me to kill myself and let the curse do the rest? Penny is pointing her ring at him, and I can tell she’s already contemplating various hexes she can use if he tries anything, but Baz shocks us both. 

He  _ smiles _ .

It’s a sneering sort of smile, but it’s definitely a smile, and Baz never smiles at me, which means I must really be in trouble.

“I did nothing of the sort. You’re the one who cast the spell, Snow, I’m just reaping the rewards.”

(Penny immediately assumes that Baz is telling the truth.)

“What did you do, Simon?”

“Why do you assume that I did something? He’s lying! I wouldn’t cast a spell on myself to help Baz!”

Penny gives me a pitying look, which I hate. I know I’m bad at spellwork, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know enough to not cast spells like that!

“Are you sure, Si? You didn’t try any spells today? Or yesterday?”

“No! I didn’t!”

Baz clears his throat, and we both turn back to look at him. I’m already dreading whatever his next order will be.

“Snow, tell Bunce what you said to me before leaving the room this morning.”

I have no clue where he’s going with this.

“You mean before covering you in toothpaste?” I intend to stop there, just reminding him of my victory, but that success is quickly tarnishing, especially as I unwillingly continue, “I said, ‘ _ as you wish _ ’.”

Penny gasps, and Baz looks smug.

“Simon, really? Why? How did you even learn that spell? And Baz? Well, I guess that makes sense, especially after fifth year, but really, Simon, why would you cast that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t cast anything! I didn’t know that was a spell, and I wouldn’t have cast it if I knew this would happen!”

Penny looks to Baz as if asking for clarification, and even though I want to understand what’s happening here so that we can make it stop, I don’t like how quickly she’s willing to believe him.

“It’s true, Bunce. I don’t think he meant to cast it though, and I’m not certain that it is the  _ actual _ spell. He didn’t use his wand, he didn’t know he was casting it, and we all know how ill-behaved Snow’s magic can be.”

“I’m right here! I can hear you, you know!” I’m ready to call for the Sword of Mages and just start swinging until I get a few answers. Baz still seems unruffled though.

“Yes, yes, we know, Snow. Tell me, do you watch a lot of movies?”

I try to bite back my answer, but I speak anyway. “No.”

“Pity.” He raps his knuckles twice on the table and stands up. “See you in class.”

The second he’s gone I whirl on Penny.

“What were you talking about? What spell do you think I cast? How do I undo it?”

“I don’t know, Si.  _ As you wish _ is a spell, but I’m not certain that’s actually the one you cast.” I start to point out that  _ of course _ Baz was lying, but she continues, talking over me. “I’m fairly certain you aren’t familiar with the source material, and that, among other things, makes it unlikely that you cast the real spell, so I think this is probably some accidental creation of your own magic.”

I huff. “Fine. How do you reverse the original? We can try that first, and then go from there if that doesn’t work.”

Penny wrinkles her nose and furrows her brows. “You have to fulfill his greatest desire.”

“Fuck that, I’m not going to off myself. We’ll find another way to break it. C’mon,” I say, stuffing a few extra scones in my pockets, “Let’s go to the library before class and start researching.”

“I never thought I’d see you so anxious to study,” Penny says, taking one last sip of her tea before following me out of the dining hall.

**Penny**

As exciting as it is to hear Simon say he wants to research something, I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances. The way I see it, there’s only two options. Either Simon accidentally created a spell that cursed him to do Baz’s bidding, and there’s no known way to reverse it, or Simon cast the original spell and is in love with Baz. 

Personally, I think I’d almost prefer the first option. But I’m certain that, if Simon is in love with Baz, then he has absolutely no clue, and I don’t fancy being the one to try and break that news to him. (It would make a lot of sense though, and could possibly even solve a few of our problems for us, but I’m certainly not going to suggest  _ that _ to Simon.)

I suppose I should be more worried about what Baz might do with his new power over Simon, but really, I’m just not that concerned. If Baz truly wanted Simon dead, he would have killed him ages ago. Merry Morgana, he would have almost been justified in doing it fifth year, what with Simon sneaking up on him in the Catacombs constantly. I’m fairly certain that Baz is going to spend the next however-long-Simon’s-cursed being an obnoxious brat, but I’m not actually concerned for Simon’s wellbeing.

“Hey Pen?” Simon’s looking up at me from the book he’s been idly leafing through. “What if the spell doesn’t just work on Baz? What if I have to do everything people tell me to? Or what if someone tells me to do something impossible? Will I die if I can’t?” His leg is bouncing and he’s all jittery. He’s starting to get really worked up.

“That’s easy enough to test, at least the first part is. Umm, here; Simon, hand me that book.”

He hands it to me. “Why? Do you think you know what the counter spell is?”

“What? No, Simon, I was trying to see if you had to do it just because I told you to. Don’t be so nice!” I shove him with my shoulder to let him know I’m only teasing. “Now, try not to do what I ask, okay?” He nods. “Hand me that book.”

After a beat, he looks up at me and unfurrows his brow. “Nothing’s happening. Do you want the book though?”

“No, Si, it’s fine. It looks like it’s only Baz you have to listen to then. At least that’s something.”

“What do you mean, ‘ _ that’s something _ ’?” he demands, pulling at the front of his hair. “That’s the worst thing I can imagine! He could make me do horrible things! He’s a bad person!”

I don’t think that’s completely true, but I’m not going to argue that point with Simon right now. “Then just stick with me and don’t spend time alone with him until we work out the counterspell, alright?”

“Pen, I live with him! I can’t not spend time alone with him. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“You’ll be fine in your room. The Anathema will protect you, so you can sleep in your bed in complete safety, just like every other night.”

He slumps down in his chair and picks up his book again. “Fine. But if he kills me I’m going to come back and haunt you.”

“I can live with that,” I say, opening the book he passed me earlier and hoping to Merlin that there will be an easy solution to all of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter, and then my wonderful beta [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings) helped me make it way better! <3  
> Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this fic so far, hopefully you'll enjoy what's to come!  
> (I have borrowed one line from The Princess Bride, so, that's not mine)

**Simon**

I’m completely miserable. Baz is going out of his way to torture me even more than usual, which I wouldn’t have thought possible before today. I’ve stuck by Penny in all of our classes, and in the two classes we don’t have together, I’ve made sure to always be surrounded by other people. I considered asking Agatha for help and letting her know what happened, but we haven’t been talking as much since she broke up with me last month, and I know how much she hates things like this. I don’t want to annoy her.

Even with my precautions though, Baz is being insufferable. He’s dropping pencils and telling me to pick them up. He saw I still had a scone in my pocket, so he told me to give it to him, and promptly threw it in the trash. When the Minotaur told everyone to get a translation packet off of the table in the front of the room, Baz just smirked at Dev and Niall and then called out, “Hey, Snow, grab three for us,” as casual as you please. Everyone in the room was staring, and even though I told him to get stuffed, I still picked up the packets. I wanted to throw them at him, but the Minotaur was already admonishing me for being rude, so I just shoved the papers towards him and stomped back to my desk.

Penny and I spend every spare moment in the library, but we still haven’t found anything. By the time curfew rolls around, I’m dragging my feet up the stairs of Mummer’s House and trying to figure out what I’ll say to Baz if he’s still awake. I won’t be ordered around in my own room; even if he can’t kill me, I still won’t do his bidding.

The light is on underneath the door, so I push it open, already bracing myself for commands to be flung in my direction. Baz is sitting up in his bed, hair falling around his face, reading some novel with leather and gold binding.

“How was your day today, Snow?”

What the hell? We don’t talk. We don’t do this. There has never been a single moment of casual conversation in this room between the two of us. Ever.

“What do you care? Besides, you already know how my day was. You were ordering me around constantly.” I stomp over to my desk and throw my bookbag onto the chair. When I turn around to grab my clothes and change for bed, he’s smirking.

“My day was lovely, thank you for asking. Everyone was just so accommodating today, and I’ve been able to spend the evening reading one of my favorite books.”

I decide to just ignore him and slam the door to the bathroom, but when I come out, he acts as though we’ve been talking this entire time.

“Have you ever read  _ The Princess Bride _ , Snow?” I keep ignoring him, but then he re-words his question as a command. “Tell me, have you?”

“No.” I grit the word out and start untangling my sheets so that I can just go to sleep and get away from him. I never make my bed, but as I struggle to unwrap the top sheet from where it has seemingly tied itself into a knot, I start to regret that.

“That’s too bad. Let’s kill two birds with one stone.” I flinch at the expression (it’s a vicious spell when said with magic), but he ignores me. “I’m getting tired, but I’m almost at one of my favorite parts. Read to me until I fall asleep. Once I do, just put the book on my nightstand immediately.”

He holds the book out, and I have no choice but to take it. I open to the page he’s left bookmarked, and I start to read.

**Baz**

I’m certain that this was a mistake, but I can’t help indulging myself a little. I checked the library during lunch to be certain that Watford didn’t have a copy for Snow to investigate on his own, and since there’s no risk of him finding out what ‘ _ As you wish _ ’ really means, I’ve decided to allow him to enjoy reading about a swordfight, all the while lulling me to sleep with his voice. I expect him to read in a sort of lurching manner, with lots of stops and starts, just like he normally speaks, but he surprises me by reading smoothly.

“Inigo paced the cliff edge, fingers snapping. Fifty feet below him now, the man in black still climbed.”

I might actually be a genius.

**Simon**

I was expecting this book of Baz’s to be something dull and boring, but it has a proper sword fight in it! I’m really enjoying myself, and I’m surprised when, all of a sudden, I feel my hand reaching for the bookmark and closing the novel. I want to keep reading, but apparently whatever spell this is compels me to do Baz’s bidding even when he’s asleep. 

So I just put the book on Baz’s bedside table and go to turn out the lights. I hear him mumble something and freeze, worried that I’ve woken him up, but he just smiles and burrows under the covers a little more. I’ve never seen him look so… not evil. It’s almost like he woke up enough to wish me ‘Sweet dreams’ or something pleasant, although I’m sure that’s not what he actually said. Either way, once I’m certain that he’s not going to wake up, I turn off the lights, fall into bed, and when I wake up the next morning, I can just barely remember dreaming about playing football out on the pitch.

**Baz**

It’s been three days since Simon accidentally cursed himself, and I think I might be more miserable than he is. He’s upset because I’m ordering him around, but I’ve been tortured with far worse the past few days. I still have no clue if he cast the traditional  **_as you wish_ ** spell, or if he cast some version unique to Simon Snow and doesn’t love me at all. 

Obviously, I’m sure it’s the later, but my traitorous heart and Ockham’s Razor don’t quite agree. Even besides that horrible conundrum, I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do now that Snow is cursed. I don’t have any desire to make him do anything truly awful and I can only disguise so many commands that are protective of his well-being before he gets suspicious (no matter how much I sneer while saying, “Don’t hurt yourself” or “Be careful!”, eventually it will be obvious that the only thing I’m plotting is a way to keep him safe).

I have found a few commands that I’m happy to give (“Close the bloody window, Snow!”), but by this point I’m starting to seriously consider taking a vow of silence to avoid any potentially awkward conversations.

Instead of any more dramatic measures, I’ve simply started giving Snow his space, and I only give him a few orders a day. My new personal rule is that, for every helpful order I give (“Do your homework, you dullard”), I also have to give a selfish one (“Snow, don’t disturb my sleep until after eight o’clock tomorrow morning”). 

No matter what though, I always ask him to read to me until I fall asleep. I can’t ask him to read all of  _ The Princess Bride _ , of course, as I don’t want to give anything away, but I have a nice collection of books ready that I’m certain he’ll enjoy reading. I’ve never cared much for books with surplus sword fights and battles, but I’m more than content to listen to Simon describe the clashing of blades as I drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I would like to shower endless thanks upon my incredible beta, [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings), and I encourage you to go read everything that she's written! <3

**Simon**

I honestly expected being cursed to do Baz’s bidding to be a lot worse than it is. I don’t like having to do whatever he tells me to, but he hasn’t really been that mean to me yet. Instead, he tells me to do my homework (probably to make me shut up), but it means that for once I’m able to concentrate through entire assignments, and my grades are already starting to improve. He tells me to be careful (probably so that he won’t be forced to reveal that he’s a vampire if his fangs pop out at the sight of my blood), but when I shave now I don’t cut myself. And, he tells me to read to him, which is the best bit of all! I expected his books to be boring and dull, but instead he has novels full of sword fights and pirates and all sorts of exciting things! He still makes me close the window (which I hate), but at least he hasn’t told me to jump out of it yet.

I suppose I should be more worried about Baz eventually trying to hurt me while I’m under this spell, but as the days go by without incident, I’m starting to feel less and less concerned. Maybe that’s just part of his plot though, and I’m being lulled into a false sense of security. I mention it to Penny while we’re in the library (she’s researching ways to break the spell, whereas I’ve gotten bored and started swinging my feet at the table leg), but she doesn’t seem concerned at all.

“For snake’s sake Simon, why are you upset about  _ not _ being tortured? Basil might just not be evil. Have you ever considered that?”

“Penny, he set a chimera on me! He’s going to kill me someday He threatens me all the time! Besides,” I lower my voice. “He’s a vampire, he’s naturally evil!”

Penny rolls her eyes.

“Simon. We don’t have proof that he’s a vampire, so you shouldn’t go around accusing him of that, that’s serious. And if he was evil, wouldn’t he have made you do something worse by now? What’s the worst thing that he’s done to you, really?”

I think for a moment. Penny is nearly always right, which is usually a good thing, but right now I wish I could prove her wrong. Baz hasn’t been evil recently, the worst thing he’s made me do is close the window and stop using the Sword of Mages in our room. But still! He’s been evil for the last seven years. He can’t have just changed completely over the summer.

When I don’t answer, Penny gives me a knowing look, and then pointedly returns to the book she’s been paging through. I slump down in my seat and give the table leg another good kick.

A few hours later, after dinner and a bit more research, I return to our room to find Baz dressed for football practice.

“What are you doing? You don’t have practice on Thursdays.”

He just raises an eyebrow at me.

“Are you tired?” he asks, and I immediately feel myself go on the defensive. He has never once inquired after my well-being, and I have no clue what he could possibly be planning.

“No. Why? And why are you dressed for football?”

He continues ignoring my questions.

“Good. Get changed and come down to the pitch. I want to kick things at your head for a while.” He sneers, and I want to do… something. I’m not sure what, but instead, my body moves on its own to grab a t-shirt and trackies, and once I’m changed, I have no choice but to follow him down the stairs.

When we get to the grass, he drops the ball and starts kicking it along, dribbling it between his feet. I try to take it away from him, and he runs forward, now racing me to the field. Of course he beats me (stupid vampire super speed), but instead of ordering me to stand in the goal or anything, he just looks at me over his shoulder and says, “One on one Snow. Think you’re up for it?” then starts running down the pitch, heading toward the open goal. I charge after him, catching up right as he goes to shoot, and somehow manage to steal the ball away.

I lose track of time, just trying to score a goal while keeping Baz from doing the same, but eventually it starts to get dark, and Baz kicks the ball into his net.

“Ha! I win!” He’s hardly sweating while I’m exhausted and trying to gulp down air, and he runs in a little circle just to show off, smiling the entire time. (A real smile, not a sneering one. Like we’re friends or something.)

“That’s not fair, you have night vision, you cheated!”

He stops running, but the smile doesn’t completely leave his face.

“Prove it, then, if you’re so sure.”

I can’t, and he knows it.

“That’s what I thought. Now stop being a sore loser, I’m going to take a shower and then I have a new book that I want you to read to me.” He picks up the ball and bumps my shoulder good-naturedly to get me to follow him. And I realize then that, even though Baz Pitch is the biggest prat I’ve ever met, he might not be as evil as I originally thought.

Baz is just reaching for the bathroom door when it finally dawns on me.

“You gave me an order that I couldn’t do! And nothing happened! I didn’t die!”

I can tell that it takes him a second to understand what I’m talking about, I can almost see him replaying the evening in his mind, until his eyes widen for just a moment and his face looks stricken for an instant before returning to a sneer.

“I’m glad you didn’t die then.” I must look confused, because he adds, “You still owe me a bedtime story.”

**Baz**

I take a shaky breath as I shut the door, leaning against it and trying not to freak out in any way that would be noticeable.  _ I could have killed him. _ I didn’t even realize that I ordered him to prove that I could see in the dark. I was just taunting him without thinking.  _ He could have killed me. _ If he somehow proved that I was a vampire, he would have technically fulfilled my command, and I could be facing the Coven right now.

I think I’m more worried about what could have happened to him. I love him, far more than I care for myself, and I never want anything bad to happen to him - even when he wakes me up too early and leaves the bloody window open when it rains. I can’t risk being careless again. I resolve at once to speak to Snow as little as possible, and to school my tongue to not give him any more commands. 

His “ _ as you wish _ ” may not have meant “ _ I love you, _ ” but my silence certainly will.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad that so many of you are enjoying this fic so far! Thank you for reading it, I hope that you continue to enjoy it as we pass the halfway mark :)  
> If you like this chapter, then you should go and read the fics that [waterwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings) has written, because without her incredible beta skills this chapter would not exist in this form. (And if you don't like this chapter then that's on me, go read Amy's fics anyway!)

**Simon**

Baz is acting weird. Even weirder than usual, that is.

I thought things were going fairly well. He was being less of a prat, we were almost getting along, and I thought we’d had fun playing football together – I enjoyed myself, at least. But when he came out of the bathroom, Baz didn’t even look at me, just got into his bed and curled up to face the wall. When I asked if he still wanted me to read to him he just shook his head  _ no _ , and then pretended to be asleep a few minutes later when I asked if he was okay.

I can’t think of anything I could possibly have done wrong, but I like  _ this _ (whatever it is we’ve been doing today) better than fighting, so I just close the window as quietly as I can and get into bed.

“Penny,” I whine. “Baz is avoiding me!”

She pauses in the middle of whatever she’s writing and takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, not looking up at me.

“Why are you complaining, Simon? I thought that you would be happy about that.”

“Well, yeah, but...” I’m frustrated, it’s been three days since Baz stopped speaking to me, stopped ordering me around, stopped being easy to find, and I don’t know why. “He’s not even ordering me around!”

“And that’s bad, why?” Penny asks, drawing the last word out as she turns back to her notes.

“Because — I don’t get to read his books anymore? I thought we were becoming friends? No, that’s stupid. “Because it means he’s plotting something!”

Penny closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose, then levels me with something I would call a glare if she wasn’t my best friend.

“Simon. If he was plotting anything he would have done it by now.” She pushes my homework at me. “Stop obsessing over Baz and focus on Greek instead, we have a test next week.”

**Penny**

Honestly, these two. If Simon could just _think_ _objectively_ , even for a moment, he would realize what I’ve suspected since fifth year. And Baz is no better, really. To the outside observer, he may be subtle, but I’ve spent too many years watching him and Simon quarrel. They’re both ridiculous, and this spell only confirms it. All I can hope is that they figure out how to break the spell (and figure out what it means) before I have to step in, because I don’t fancy having to make either of them confront their own feelings.

**Baz**

For all that Simon can be imbecilic, he does have moments where he is frighteningly perceptive. He corners me in the library a week after my vow of silence, all blue eyes and bronze curls, and drags a chair over too close to where I’m attempting to read.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Why do you care? I thought you would be glad for a respite.” If I don’t look at him, maybe I can maintain the upper hand, and maybe he’ll go away.

He starts working up to a bluster, but then seems to notice what I’m doing, and it’s almost like he deflates back to calm.

“Are you trying to figure out how to break the spell too?” He sounds genuinely curious, his accusatory tone of moments earlier entirely gone. “Why? Don’t you like ordering me around?”

I’m still trying to ignore him, concentrating as hard as I can on this chapter about compulsion spells. I turn the page, and he suddenly gasps.

“Oh!”

I can’t ignore him any longer, I give in and meet his blue eyes, I take in his mouth hanging open in a little “o”, the slight wrinkle of his brow.

“What is it Snow?”

“You’re worried about killing me!” He sounds so excited to finally have an answer, but then his face immediately falls back into confusion. “But why? Don’t you want to kill me?”

I scoff. “I’m supposed to kill you in battle, not by ordering you to keep your dirty socks on your side of the room, which you are  _ incapable of doing _ ,” I hiss. “Besides,” I add, because I am desperately trying to save face, “I want a fair fight. I don’t want anyone accusing me of being lazy when I kill you. I’m going to bring you to your knees, surround you with fire, and laugh as your precious Mage and girlfriend can only watch in horror.”

He looks horrified for a moment, and then scrunches up his face. He’s not buying it. And I can’t decide if I’m frustrated or relieved. His nose wrinkles. (It’s adorable.) (I hate it.)

“Why do you always have to be such a villain?”

“Can you hear yourself? That’s all you’ve accused me of being for the last seven and a half years! And now you’re upset because I’m finally living up to your expectations?” I can’t seem to find the thread in this conversation. Nothing that he’s saying is making any sense. He’s not usually this contradictory.

“You’re not really a villain though, are you?” How can he be so earnest? Where is this coming from? “I mean, you’re not properly evil at all. You just want everyone to think you are.”

He looks almost smug at figuring something out, while I’m trying not to let my panic show. I sneer, it’s the only thing I can do to regain my footing.

“I assure you, I’m evil. I’m just as evil as anyone else who fights for the people they care about, just as evil as Bunce, or you, or even the Mage, but if who I care for makes me a villain then fine. You’re right, you win. I’m evil.”

He squares his shoulders and juts out his chin; this is a fight, then. “No, you’re not. You’re an entitled prick, and you’re rude and bossy and you like being better than everyone else, but you’re not  _ evil _ . If you were really evil then you would have killed me already.”

I don’t like his assessment of me, but I also can’t dispute it.

“How can you be sure?”

He blinks up at me, and those ordinary blue eyes are going to be my downfall.

“Because I don’t want to kill you either.”

**Simon**

Alright, so I’m not one hundred percent sure that Baz doesn’t want to kill me, but I figured that there was a good enough chance I was right to just go with it. I didn’t think, didn’t let myself worry or bluster. I just went with my first instinct (that usually works out for me) (most of the time).

“You —” he clears his throat. “You don’t want to kill me?” He looks like his brain is rebooting. His face is shocked, then blank.

“Nah. And I don’t think you want that either.. So, can we just, I dunno, stop?”

He’s coming back to himself; he’s still unsure (I can tell) but his confident mask is back.

“Stop  _ what _ exactly, Snow?”

“The fighting. The constant antagonizing. No more slamming windows, or sneering, or stealing homework, yeah? If I’m cursed to do whatever you say then that’s fine, but you can’t make me pick stuff up for you constantly.”

“I haven’t been doing-” 

He’s right, but I’m not letting him interrupt me to be correct. “And you can’t be mean to me. And I’ll try not to leave the window open all the time, and I’ll put my clothes away on my side of the room, and when we’re told to go kill each other, we just...I dunno…” His shoulders slump. “Won’t?”

Baz blinks once, looks at me like I’m an extra special moron, and then sticks out his hand and says, “Fine. Truce.”

I shake it, and we both sit there awkwardly for a few moments before Baz glances back down at his book.

“Have you found anything helpful?”

I can tell that he wants to snark at me, but he must be just as sick of fighting as I am, because he just sighs and says, “No, not really.” I slump down in my chair. 

“Because you weren’t aware you were casting a spell when you did,” he goes on. “There isn’t really any way to know how your magic would react to any of the counterspells I’ve found.”

I was expecting something like that. Penelope told me the same thing a few weeks ago, before she started to give up on finding a solution in any of the books here.

“Well, thanks for looking, I guess.” We both freeze. It feels weird to be this civil, and I don’t think we’ve ever thanked each other for anything. I want to get used to it.

**Baz**

I’ve been looking for a counterspell because I need this to end. I will be eternally grateful to Simon’s messed up magic for bringing us to a shaky, uneasy ceasefire, but I won’t enjoy this peace for long if I have to spend even a few more days wondering if Simon cast the real spell or his own variation. I feel like a child plucking daisy petals.  _ He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. _ I can’t imagine the last petal being anything other than  _ not, _ though, and the inevitable letdown is too painful.

Even so, I’m feeling a little bit high from our truce when I return to our room and find him ready for bed. Before I can think twice about it, I blurt out, “Do you have any plans for Christmas?”

I expect him to say something about going to the Bunce’s, since he and Agatha broke up, but he surprises me.

“Um, yeah, actually, the Wellbeloves invited me to their house again. I wasn’t really expecting it, but Agatha said it was fine, so…” He trails off, and I can hear the rest of the sentence:  _ It’s better spending the holidays with an ex who’s barely speaking to me than it would be to stay here all alone. _

“Oh. Good. That’s good.” Why did I even start this conversation? “Well, if you find out anything else about how to undo the spell you’re welcome to come to Hampshire as well.” My father would have a fit. “I’m sure my family wouldn’t mind.” At least Daphne would probably be fine with entertaining the Chosen One, she’s far less political than everyone else in my family. “At the very least we’ll have lots of leftovers, we always do.” Just  _ shut up Basil! _

Snow doesn’t seem put off by my rambling somehow, and even perks up at the mention of food. (Of course.)

“Alright, sure. Thanks Baz.”

“Stop doing that, it’s weird.”

“Stop doing what?”

“Stop thanking me.”

His face falls. I didn’t even realize I’d given him another command.

“Sorry. You can thank me if you want to, just… do it less? It’s still weird.”

He smiles again, and it’s like the rain clouds are parting and the sun is coming out. I can almost hear the birds singing. I’m impossibly soft for him.

“I’m going to take a shower. Pick out a book to read when I get out. You can reread one if you want.” I’m disgusting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, lovely readers! Thank you all for making it this far with me! As you may have originally noticed, we are one chapter from the end! This is the penultimate chapter! Except, someone left me a brilliantly hilarious comment, and my brain loved it so much that I had to write some bonus content, so the next time this fic updates, not only will you get the final chapter of As You Wish, but you will also get an extra scene :)
> 
> I have to give a million billion thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings). Without her this fic would be a lot less dynamic, and Baz would never reach his true dramatic potential <3
> 
> A tiny warning for this chapter - Simon has a slight panic attack. It is very minor, and I honestly wasn't sure if I should even mention it, but if you don't want to read any anxiety, stop reading after "...until the movie ruins everything." and start again at "When I force my eyes open..." (Again, this is super slight, but I don't want anyone to have their day ruined because they were reading a fluffy fic. A summary of those paragraphs can be found in the end notes - take care of yourselves!)

**Simon**

Christmas with the Wellbeloves is always incredible. They have a huge house, a million TVs, and Agatha’s parents are so nice. Even though I’m not dating their daughter anymore, they still seem happy to see me. Dr. Wellbelove is still calling me “son”. Helen hasn’t been by since Agatha and I arrived last night, but Mrs. Wellbelove said that she’s asked after me too.

I had been a little worried that things would be awkward once Agatha and I were left alone, but after only a few hours, I can’t help feeling like we’re getting along better than we ever have, even better than when we were dating. When Agatha suggests watching a movie (I think so that I’ll have something to do while she paints her nails), she even lets me choose. After vetoing  _ Die Hard _ , we settle on  _ The Princess Bride _ . The name sounds familiar, there’s a guy with a sword on the cover, and Agatha doesn’t make a face when I pull it off the shelf, so I figure it’s a safe choice. Her mom brings us popcorn, and as the smell of melting butter mixes with the smell of Agatha’s nail polish, I start to feel perfectly content. For once, I’m just enjoying everything familiar with zero expectations, until the movie ruins everything.

The grandfather, or whoever the fuck is narrating, starts explaining that “ _ as you wish _ ” really means “ _ I love you _ ”, and all of a sudden I can’t breathe. 

My vision tunnels to just the screen. 

Everything else goes dark. 

I’m not really watching the movie any more.

I’m panicking, and trying not to let on to Agatha that I’m freaking out, and doing a poor job of keeping my magic in check. Agatha wrinkles her nose as the green smokey smell gets worse, and says, “Calm down Simon, it’s not just a romcom, there are sword fights coming up soon too.”

I take deep breaths and try to calm down. Yes, I cast  **_As you wish_ ** , and yes, this is probably where the original spell is from, but that’s just a coincidence. I’m not actually  _ in love _ with  _ Baz _ . There’s no way. We’re just friends! 

I think. 

We’re on a truce, at least. But we weren’t even that when I cast the spell, so this can’t be what it means. And besides, Baz doesn’t like me, so it doesn’t even matter. It’s just a weird coincidence and it doesn’t mean anything!

I’m still smoking a bit, so I try harder to focus on the movie. On screen, Buttercup is being kidnapped. Agatha makes a face, probably thinking of the time she was kidnapped and held at the bottom of a well. (I did rescue her though, so it all turned out okay.) I focus on the movie and try to think of all the spells I could use in a situation like that (it’s what Penny would suggest doing). My spellwork is shit though, so I’d probably just use my sword. 

Fuck, that’s not a very good distraction. 

I ask Agatha if Shrieking Eels are real, but she doesn’t think so, so that’s not too distracting either. I feel like I’m about to go out of my mind, or maybe just go off, trying not to think about the spell, or Baz, or what it means that I cast it, or how I liked playing football together and reading to him, or how he spent half of his commands ordering me to do things that actually helped me, but how he couldn’t actually like me, and how it doesn’t matter because I should just ignore it all and  _ focus on the movie _ .

When I force my eyes open as wide as they’ll go and push everything out of my mind, I see a scene I’m certain I’ve encountered before. A man dressed all in black is scaling a cliff, and another man is pacing at the top with a sword. The second Inigo speaks, I remember exactly where I’ve heard of  _ The Princess Bride _ before – this was the first book I read to Baz, the day that I spelled us.

“I have to go.”

Agatha protests, but I run to the guest room and grab my duffle before rushing out through the living room again.

“Simon! Where are you going?” She’s following behind me, almost waddling as she tries to run without messing up her toenail polish.

“I have to go see Baz!”

“Now?  _ Why? _ ”

“There was a spell, and he, I...never mind, it’s a lot, just...can you drive me?”

“No! Simon, stop!” She tries to be the voice of reason, but I’m past listening. “You don’t need to go anywhere, just stay here and enjoy Christmas, you can fight with Basil in the New Year!”

I didn’t expect her to agree to drive me, but there was no harm in asking. Besides, I don’t really want to spend an hour trapped in a car with Agatha trying to explain why it’s imperative that I see Baz  _ right this second _ . Honestly, I’m trying not to even think about it to myself, but I’ve never been very good at not thinking about Baz. (Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised by this.) (Maybe I should  _ stop thinking! _ )

“Sorry, Ags, but I have to go. Tell your parents thanks for me!” I hop on one foot as I pull on a shoe. “Tell Helen I say hi!” I grab my coat and stuff my arms through the sleeves, shouting, “I’ll call you later!” as I run out the front door, and I don’t stop running all the way to the train station.

**Baz**

I’m practicing my violin in the library when Vera walks in. Holst’s  _ Jupiter _ comes to a sudden stop when I see her, even though she has no way of knowing who I’m thinking of or what constellations I’m picturing while I work my way through  _ The Planets _ .

“Master Pitch, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but there is a young man here to see you. He says that he’s from your school.”

Vera knows Dev and Niall – “Thank you, Vera,” – and I can’t imagine anyone else would show up here without texting first, especially not so late after dinner. I put my violin back in its case and refuse to let myself hope, trying to shove down the excitement rising in my throat. It’s all for naught though, as my heart leaps embarrassingly when I reach the top of the stairs and look down into the foyer.

Simon is here, a disheveled mess, soaked through and covered in countryside, looking agitated, and nervous, and determined, and unbearably lovely.

“Snow.” He looks up when I say his name, and his blue eyes lock onto mine with a determination I’ve never seen before.

I maintain eye contact with him the entire way down the stairs, going as slowly as I can to show just how unbothered I am by his sudden presence in my home.  _ (A lie. I am extremely _ bothered. _ ) _ Snow, for his part, is doing absolutely nothing to hide his thoughts. His mouth is hanging open a bit ( _ mouth breather _ ), his cheeks are pink ( _ presumably from the cold? I can’t imagine it would be anything else _ ), and his eyes are wide as saucers as he watches my slow descent. I always take care to be graceful in my movements, but right now I know I must look like royalty to Snow, even in my casual clothing.

When I finally step closer to him and the mud puddle he’s standing in, his mouth closes for just long enough to finally form my name.

“Baz,” and then, “you’re wearing  _ jeans _ .”

I’m in love with a moron.

“Yes, Snow, I’m wearing jeans. They’re a fairly common article of clothing, especially when one is away from school or work.” I make a show of looking him up and down. “Did you rush here from school just to comment on my wardrobe?”

“No, I...erm, I was...Agatha’s dad picked us up, this morning, but- we hadn’t-“

I don’t want to stand in my own home and listen to Simon tell me about how he’s gotten back together with his girlfriend, I won’t do it.

“Spit it out, Snow. Unless you came here to tell me that you’re back with Wellbelove, in which case, I will remind you that  _ I don’t care _ .”

He falls silent and just stares at me again. I think he’s struggling to find the words in his head.

“Merlin, Snow, you couldn’t possibly have traveled all the way from the Wellbelove’s at this time of night just to tell me that Agatha is no longer single, even you wouldn’t be that miserable of a boyfriend. Why are you here?”

He starts tugging on his curls, and I’m starting to get worried that he actually  _ is _ back together with Wellbelove. I’d heard Bunce talking only a few days ago about how glad she was that Simon and Agatha were just friends now, there’s no way they could have decided to jump back into their trainwreck of a relationship already, is there?

“Um, can we talk, maybe, somewhere else?” Snow really does look miserable, now that he’s gotten over the apparent shock of seeing me in casual clothes. His eyes are darting anxiously around the room, and he’s covered in mud and leaves, clearly having tripped through the slushy snow at some point in his journey. I decide to take pity on him.

“We can go up to my room, but you’re not going to traipse mud through the house.  **_Clean as a whistle!_ ** ” He barely even flinches as my magic darts around him, just takes off his boots and follows me up the stairs, looking wide-eyed around at every inch of the house we pass.

When we finally get to my room, I motion him in first, then shut the door behind us. He glances at it for a moment, looking wary, and then takes a deep breath. I raise an eyebrow.

“Agatha and I were watching a movie,” he starts, and then tugs on his curls yet again before growling in frustration. For a moment I think that he’s going to haul off and punch me, he’s got a wild glint in his eyes, and I start to say “Anathema,” just out of reflex, when he does something even more unexpected.

Simon Snow pushes me up against my bedroom door, and he kisses me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Simon realizes that "As you wish" means "I love you", and panics over what that means about his relationship with Baz. He tries to distract himself, but keeps coming back to all the nice things that Baz has done for him and how much Simon likes being on a truce.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with this fic and reading through to this final chapter - hopefully you like how the story ends!
> 
> I would not have been able to publish this fic at all if it wasn't for my absolutely incredible beta, Amy. You can find her fantastic works on ao3 ([waterwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterwings/pseuds/waterwings)) and on tumblr ([@amywaterwings](https://amywaterwings.tumblr.com/)) - go check them out!
> 
> Once you finish this chapter, I have included a bonus scene at the end, so keep reading for a little extra humor :)
> 
> Enjoy!

**Simon**

I probably should have explained first, but I’m not good at talking. Besides, this is better.

**Baz**

First, I’m elated. I can barely process anything beyond his lips on mine. But then I’m confused. Then shocked. I want to push past all of this so I can enjoy the way this feels, Snow’s mouth on mine, the warmth from his lips seeping into my own, and the slight pressure of his hands holding my hips. After a few more moments pass though, anxiety creeps in. He knows what he’s doing, and I’ve never kissed anyone before. And then terror settles in, the realization that  _ of course _ he could never truly want this. He’s kissing me because he figured out how to break the spell, he doesn’t love me.

I push him away and hear a faint  _ pop _ come from our mouths. I glance at him just long enough to see his red lips, shiny from our spit and still slightly parted, before I look away and try to shoulder past him.

“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep the shuddering disappointment out of my voice. To pretend that my heart isn’t breaking under the weight of a meaningless kiss that meant everything to me.

“I was kissing you.” He looks confused. Does he really think that I don’t know kissing breaks this spell?

“Obviously,” I say. I can still feel the ghost of his lips on mine. Why?”

“Because, I- I wanted to- I thought-” He’s working himself up to a bluster already, but I have no patience for Simon Snow’s mangled phrases right now. I love him (and that alone will kill me someday) but I’m not going to suffer any more tonight.

“Fine. I see. Let’s test this, shall we?” I can hear how icy my voice is, but I can’t be soft right now. I need to ensure that he’s broken the spell, and then I need to send him back to Wellbelove, because I can’t take any more of this. “Kiss me again, Snow.”

He looks confused, but obliges without argument. I hate myself, but I give in, and I count to five.

_ One. _

His lips are so soft.

_ Two. _

His hands are so warm.

_ Three. _

Simon Snow is kissing me.

_ Four. _

He’s still under the spell, he has no choice.

_ Five. _

“Enough.” I slide away from him and retreat to my desk on the other side of the room. I need to look detached, disinterested, bored, annoyed. (I need to wrap myself in the appearance of emotions that I will never feel after kissing Simon Snow.) I feel feverish and frantic though, and it’s taking everything in me to not trace my hand across my lips, to see if they feel somehow different now.

“Clearly that didn’t break the spell like you thought. Any other ideas, or did you travel all this way for nothing?”

Snow just stands there with his head cocked to the side, looking like a dog asking to be let inside the house.

“I- Baz, I-” He looks almost as miserable as I feel. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I’m trying not to roll my eyes at him. I need him to leave, as quickly as possible, so I can break down in private.

“The original spell can be broken with a kiss. I assume that you came across the solution and were desperate enough to try it right away. Clearly, it didn’t work.”  _ Deep breaths, don’t cry, keep steady. _

“No? I wasn’t trying to break the spell?” He must truly be confused, Snow isn’t an actor, but I can’t understand what else he thinks he’s doing.

“I think I did, though. Break the spell.”

I scoff. “Clearly you did not.” 

_ Go away Simon, let me cry over my heartbreak in peace. _

“I did. Why don’t you believe me?” He’s started walking closer, and I’m feeling trapped again.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I just gave you a command that you would never follow of your own volition and you immediately did exactly as I asked?” I’m aiming for light and airy, but there’s the tiniest wobble catching in my voice. I don’t think he’s noticed, but he also hasn’t stopped moving towards me.

“You’re wrong. I did what I wanted to do.”

He stops right in front of me and his chin is jutted out like he’s digging in for a fight.

“You wanted to kiss me?” I scoff, trying to sound hauty. Trying to sound like I am not desperate for that simple sentence to be true. “I don’t believe that.” I  _ can’t _ let myself believe that.

“You wanted to kiss me too,” he says, and I don’t know what’s made him so confident, but I can’t think of a good response. “Look,” he says, that chin ready for a fight. “There’s an easy way to figure this out. If you don’t believe me, just tell me to do something else. Give me another order.”

_ What an excellent time for my mind to go blank. _ I cast a panicked glance to the side and say, “Hand me that book.”

Snow  _ smirks _ . He honest-to-goodness  _ smirks _ at me, and I feel my stomach drop to the floor.

“No.”

And he kisses me again.

My hands fly into his curls this time, because I recognize a gift when I’ve been given one, and even though I’m still not sure what’s happening right now, I’m going to take everything I can get from this moment.

When we part for air, his eyes are shining and he looks so happy that I have to try again to ruin it.

“Go get me some tea.”

He just smiles at me and I feel like I could swoon if I wasn’t pressed up against my desk.

“No.”

And then he’s kissing me again.

I break away for a third time and he looks so wrecked, so disheveled and happy and seemingly all because of me, that I say, “Go hug a merwolf.”

He’s silent for a moment, just staring at me, and I’m sure that this will be the thing that makes him run away, this is the moment I’ll be able to look back on as the exact moment when I ruined my life, but then he bursts out laughing.

“Fuck off!”

And he kisses me again.

We end up sprawled on the floor in front of the fire. Simon is lying half on top of me, with his head on my chest, tracing aimless patterns over my stomach while I play with his curls.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Hmm?” He’s stupid with contentment, I feel the same.

“How did you know that I wanted to kiss you too?” I should be scared to hear the answer, but I can’t feel anything other than happiness right now.

He lifts his head up so that he can look at my face.

“The book. You had me read  _ The Princess Bride _ to you the day I spelled us. I liked the sword fights. And I realized you probably knew that and that...you were being nice.” He’s blushing a bit, but if I had any extra blood in me I would be redder than a brick.

“You knew  _ then _ that I liked you?” I say, my voice squeaking just a little indignantly. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you do anything sooner?” Have we wasted the autumn doing things other than kissing?

He laughs at me a little, and traces his finger down my nose. I should feel ridiculous, but I just turn my head into his hand and he kisses me once more.

“No, I didn’t realize that you were being nice for  _ weeks _ . I thought it was just lucky that I liked the books you made me read. But then I started looking forward to it, and, well-“ He swallows, and for just a second I think about biting him, but I push the thought out of my mind. “You were choosing books that you thought I’d like, weren’t you?”

I am not going to lie here and admit to being soft, so I stay quiet. Simon is suddenly talking enough for the both of us anyway, enumerating all the ways I indulged myself and overplayed my hand.

“And you didn’t need to practice with me, you just wanted us to play football together. I liked that too, by the way.” He punctuates his sentence by bringing my right hand to his mouth and kissing it. “And then there were all the other commands. You kept ordering me around, but you kept making things better for me. I got all my homework done, and I didn’t cut myself shaving, and you made me do my laundry so I could find my clean clothes every day.”

“Oh yes, the universal symbol of affection, making your roommate do their chores.” This time I do roll my eyes at him, but I smile a little too so he knows I don’t mean it. His answering smile feels blinding.

“I just thought that maybe we were starting to be proper friends, and that you were trying to be less of a dick, but then you freaked out, and you started ignoring me.”

I squeeze the hand holding mine once, entirely for me, and bring up the subject I’ve been dreading.

“Have you had any luck, proving that? Where’s your cross?” I haven’t felt it in my gums all evening, and he surely would have burned me by now with how we’ve been pressed together.

“I took it off on the train. You’re not going to bite me.”

_ How can he be so bloody sure of so many stupid things? _

“How do you know?” I say, trying to pretend like the answer to this question isn’t seismic in its significance.

“You don’t want to. You don’t bite people.” He’s right that I don’t bite people, but he smells delicious. I’ve been dreaming about his blood for years.

“You’re wrong.” He should look more concerned, not just slightly puzzled. “I do want to bite you.” I wait for just a moment to see if I’m going to scare him away, then I press my face into the place where his shoulder meets his neck and give him the tiniest nip with my (human) teeth. He tenses for just a second, and I cover the sting with kisses until he’s laughing and pulling me back up to his mouth and we lose ourselves to kissing again.

When the fire starts to die down and my toes start to get cold (I won’t press them into his calves for warmth just yet. That seems like something I should wait until the second or third date for, at least metaphorically speaking) we pull apart, and this time I stand up, dragging him up with me.

“I know you must be hungry Snow. Let’s get some food for you and then you can clear a few more things up for me.”

**Simon**

As Baz raids the fridge, I look around the kitchen. It’s huge, all stainless steel and gleaming appliances, but my eyes keep coming back to Baz. My brain is tripping over all the things I’ve apparently wanted to do for a while, like touch his hair and kiss his nose, and I can’t believe I didn’t let myself think about him like that. I guess it was for the best though; he probably would have punched me if I had thrown myself at him without warning before all of this. Even now, I can tell that he’s trying not to let his agitation show – he’s happy, I know that, he even told me so, whispering it between kisses, but he’s also anxious. He said that he still has questions (I do too – am I gay? Did I really break the curse just by kissing him? Can I keep kissing him after tonight? When we go back to school?), so I take his hand when he passes me a carton of milk and I follow him back to his room.

We sit together on the couch in his room, balancing the casserole dish of leftovers on our knees, and trying not to acknowledge how potentially awkward we could each be feeling right now. I know Baz said that he had questions, but I don’t think I have answers, at least not as many as he probably wants, and almost certainly not the right ones. I keep shoving food in my mouth, because it’s just as good as the food at Watford is, but also because I’m hoping that if my mouth is full then Baz will be too polite to ask me anything.

Baz hardly eats at all and he covers his mouth when he does, which is ridiculous, because I already know he’s a vampire, but I’m not going to start the conversation by saying that. He pushes a few spoonfuls of cottage pie around on his side of the dish, and then, once I’ve eaten almost everything else, he sits up straight and takes a breath.

“Did you know?”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to ask me first, but that definitely wasn’t it.

“Did I know what?”

“Did you know that,” he trails off, and I think his cheeks might be trying to flush a little. He casts his eyes down, then changes his mind. “Did you mean to cast the spell?”

“ _ As you wish _ ?” I say without magic. “No, I didn’t know it was a spell. I wouldn’t have cast it if I’d known, Merlin, Baz, do you really think I meant to curse myself to follow your orders for the last few months?”

He rolls his eyes, and I think the corner of his mouth is tugging up ever so slightly.

“You are an unmitigated disaster, Simon Snow.” I would normally be offended to hear Baz say something like that, but this time his words aren’t sharp, and he takes my hand as he speaks, so I just smile back at him.

“It worked out for you though, didn’t it?” He freezes, his hand going stiff and still in my own. “I just mean, I had to do whatever you wanted for a month, so you got the better end of the deal.”

“Do you even know what the original spell does, Snow? Did you stop to find out, or did you just flail through the countryside the moment you figured out how to break it?”

His voice is cold and clipped again, in a way I haven’t heard since the fall, and I feel like I’m going to get whiplash from this conversation.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, I, I didn’t- I was, we were just-“ I keep expecting Baz to cut me off, to tell me to  _ use my words _ or something else shitty that I’ll hate, but instead he just keeps looking at me. “I didn’t know that would break the spell. Kissing you, I mean.”

“Then why did you do it?” Baz is trying to act like he doesn’t care, like none of this matters to him, but I’ve spent seven and a half years sharing a room with him, staring at him, and memorizing every line and muscle of his body. (Why was tonight’s revelation such a surprise??) He’s not unaffected. He’s tense and nervous and trying to hide whatever he’s thinking.

“Why did I kiss you?” He nods, and finally meets my eyes again. “Because I wanted to.” I can tell that he’s getting ready to close off again, to say that he doesn’t believe me or to start ruining this, so I take a deep breath and press on. “Agatha and I were watching  _ The Princess Bride _ , and when they mentioned the spell at the beginning and what it meant I started freaking out, I thought I was going to go off or something, because I was realizing all of a sudden that if I cast something like that on accident then I must really like you, and I didn’t know, and I’m still a bit confused honestly, but then the sword fight at the top of the cliff happened, and I remembered reading that to you the first night, and I realized that you liked me too, so I just- I came straight here and just didn’t think about it.”

Baz’s face is as open as I’ve ever seen it, and I’m struck suddenly with the desire to kiss him again. With Agatha, I only kissed her when it seemed like I was supposed to, but now that I know how I apparently feel about Baz, this sudden show of emotion just makes me want to kiss him until we can’t breathe anymore.

So I do.

**Baz**

Simon Snow is kissing me. He’s kissing me, and he’s kissing me, and he’s kissing me, and it’s so good, but, “Hold on.” I pull back, and he kisses the tip of my nose before sitting back. “You like me? You  _ like me _ like me?” I cringe - how juvenile.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Baz, I  _ like you  _ like you. That’s why I kissed you. Twice.” He starts to lean in again, but then stops, unsure of himself for the first time. “And, um, I’m assuming you like me too, since you did all of that nice stuff, and you kissed me back.” 

I stare at him and raise one eyebrow in the way I know drives him mental. He slowly smiles back, then says, “ _ Twice _ ,” before kissing me again.

Somewhere along the way I lose track. We shared a third kiss, and then a fourth and a fifth, and then his lips trailed down my neck and he tugged on my hair and I stopped to set the dinner dishes down and now…

Now, Simon Snow has let me push him back onto the arm of the sofa. He’s wiggling every so often and I think it’s because this can’t possibly be comfortable for his back or his neck, but then he’ll do something with his chin or his tongue, or he’ll slide a warm hand up my side, and my brain cuts off all thoughts except for  _ Simon _ . I don’t think I’ve ever been this warm or this happy in my life. Maybe before I was Turned and before my mother was murdered, but certainly not since. 

Yet now I have a miracle boy in my arms, under me, warming me all the way through, and I’m certain I don’t deserve this much happiness, but I’m going to take it anyway. Logically, I realize that at some point this has to come to an end. While I would like to do nothing else for the rest of my life, eventually Simon will need to eat again, and I will need to drink, and we’ll have to stop sharing little gasps of breath to do so. Unfortunately, Simon stops things even sooner.

He’s started kissing a line down my neck again, and when he gets to the bottom and bumps my clavicle with his chin, he bites down – not hard, not enough to break the skin, but enough to send another swarm of butterflies into my stomach and electricity shooting through my limbs. I would have assumed that I would have retained some sort of aversion to my neck being bitten, but I can’t feel anything in this moment except for pleasure. I tug on his curls for what has to be the thousandth time this evening, and he pulls away. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes are shining, and some of his freckles are lost in the beautiful flush that’s painting every inch of skin I can see.

“Baz,” he whispers, “You’re a vampire.”

Simon Snow ruins everything.

**Simon**

The second the words are out of my mouth I cringe. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that, but I’ve been kissing Baz, who is a  _ vampire _ , and I feel like maybe we should talk about that, if we’re going to be snogging.

“What the actual fuck Simon?” He’s pulled back away from me and is sitting on my legs. Crap.

“Wait, no, Baz, I just meant-“ I reach for him, but he pulls away. He’s still sitting in my lap, but just barely.

“Why would you possibly choose to bring something like that up right now? Did you just remember and now suddenly you want to leave?” He’s trying to be angry, but I think he just feels sad and defeated. He sighs. “You can go, if you want to. You can leave, and I promise not to say anything about this when we’re back at Watford.”

He shifts to get off of my lap, but I won’t let him get far. I’m not leaving, I’m not upset or disgusted or whatever he thinks I am, and I need him to know that.

“No, Baz,  _ Baz _ ,” I grab his hand and he sits back on the couch, where my feet were just a moment ago. “I don’t care.” He huffs. “No, really, I don’t mind. It’s kind of cool, actually. And you’ve never bitten anyone, right?”

He looks like he would rather be anywhere else other than here, having this conversation, but he’s staying, and he hasn’t let go of my hand.

“No, never. I wouldn’t.”

“Good. Then it’s not a problem.”

“ _ ’It’s not a problem’ _ ? Do you hear yourself, Snow?”

I shrug. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. I eat animals when I eat meat for dinner, you just drink them before they’re cooked or whatever. It’s fine. Also, you called me Simon before.”

“Did not.”

“Did so. Is that why you don’t eat around other people? Do you not like food, are you only pretending?”

Baz won’t look at me now, so I squeeze his hand, and he gives me the tiniest twitch of his fingers in reply. He won’t make eye contact.

“No. I need to eat food too, it’s just – my fangs are more visible when I eat.”

He’s miserable at having admitted that, but I’m enthralled. (Can he do that? Can Baz put me in a thrall? Probably not, since he most likely would have done it earlier, but I might still ask later.) I want to see them.

“Can I see?”

His lip curls. “You want to see my fangs?” I nod, and pick up the spoon he discarded in the casserole dish with a scoop of potatoes on it. I hold it in front of his face, like I’m feeding a baby, and for a split second I have to stop myself from saying, “here comes the airplane!” Luckily, Baz takes the spoon from me and bats my hand away before I can do anything even more embarrassing, and he chews for a moment before setting it back in the dish.

He’s still holding his hand over his mouth, and I know he’s self-conscious, but, “Baz, I’m not going to run away screaming. I just want to see.”

He lets me gently pull his hand away and I intertwine our fingers, then press our palms together. He closes his eyes for a second, then opens his mouth.

“ _ Wicked _ .”

I don’t know where his fangs came from, I can’t imagine they just sit inside his gums when they’re not out, because they’re impossibly long and they look needle-sharp. It doesn’t make sense, the physiology of it, but I don’t really care because I can’t look away from them. They’re lovely in a dangerous sort of way, just like almost everything else about Baz, and when I finally look at the rest of his face again I realize that he’s still just as handsome and maybe even a little vulnerable looking. His mouth has daggers, extending down and pressing ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and he looks so shy about it that I want to kiss the little dimples his fangs are making on his lips.

I brush a strand of hair out of his face, pushing it behind his ear, and he rolls his eyes at me.

“Really? ‘ _ Wicked _ ’?” I think he’s mocking me, but he has a bit of a lisp, like a kid with a new retainer, and I can’t stop smiling at him.

“What? They’re cool. I like them.”

He closes his mouth, and I can tell he’s trying not to smile. I kiss him again, just a chaste brush of lips, and when I pull away he finally does, a toothy (fangless) grin stretching out his face.

“I can’t believe you. You’re ridiculous. You spent  _ years _ obsessing over whether or not I was a vampire, and now that you’ve seen my fangs it’s  _ cool _ ?” He kisses me before I can say anything, and pushes me back into the couch, hovering over me again. “You’re absolutely mental.” He kisses my cheek. I think I have a mole there. “You’re a complete disaster.” He kisses underneath my ear. “And you’re such a lovely moron,” he concludes, as he pulls my bottom lip between his. He keeps kissing me and pulling away to insult me, until finally I push on his shoulders a bit after being called “an unprecedented mess.”

“Those aren’t really compliments, you know.” 

He just raises an eyebrow at me. 

I laugh. “Maybe this is the one thing you’re bad at – you’re perfect at everything else, but you can’t compliment your boyfriend.”

That makes him pause. “Are we?” He’s back to being unsure, and while I am so glad he’s finally showing me emotions other than anger and indifference, it’s weird to see him with his walls down.

“Are we what?” I ask.

“Are we boyfriends now? Just like that?”

Oh. I guess I’d just assumed. “I’d like to be. I don’t think I’m that good at being a boyfriend either, but I’d like to try, if that’s what you want?” I can’t imagine just going back to school and acting like none of this ever happened, it feels like everything is finally starting to make sense, and like everything might actually be okay for once.

Baz looks at me, and I can tell he’s going to kiss me again, and I’m assuming that means that yes, we are boyfriends now, but before his lips touch mine he pulls back and says, “As you wish, Simon.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love every single person who has read this fic, left kudos, and/or commented - you all are the best! I have really bad anxiety when it comes to responding to comments, but I do read all of them and they brighten my day :)
> 
> When I posted Chapter 2, 6643904379cS left me this comment: "I just need Baz to do something stupid and shout "oh, fuck me" and then immediately realize his mistake and have to pull a Simon and be like "wait" "i didn't mean it, you don't have to" and just be super awkward about it"  
> The second I read that I had to write that scene, it was too good to pass up! I don't think this actually happens in this universe, but consider this bonus material for a parallel universe (one where Simon probably figures things out a little sooner haha)  
> Thank you so much for the comment, and for the inspiration! <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Baz**

“Fuck me.”

I’m at my desk, struggling to focus on my Greek homework, and trying not to think about the disaster sitting on his bed behind me. Simon is distracting though, and so despite my best efforts I keep skipping lines in the translation I’m working through.

I hardly realize I’ve even spoken, I’m just cursing under my breath because I’m _frustrated_ \- Simon bloody Snow has been idly kicking his heels into his mattress for the last twenty minutes - but then, all of a sudden, the room is blessedly quiet. Unfortunately, I don’t get to appreciate it for long.

“What the hell?”

I hear Simon’s confusion accompanied by the sound of fabric rustling, and I turn around just in time to see him kicking off his trousers.

“What are you doing?!” I’ve jumped to standing and my voice pitches up a bit more than is respectable, but _Simon Snow is undressing in front of me_. I glance down before I can help it, then quickly resolve to keep my eyes above his waistline.

“I don’t know!” Simon looks almost as distressed as I feel. “Did you order me to do this?”

“Why would I order you to take your clothes off?” I’m trying to sneer, but hysteria is starting to overtake me. “There is absolutely no reason for - oh _fuck me_.”

I realize what I said, and then I realize what I _just_ said, and then I freeze as Simon and I stare at each other in wide-eyed horror.

He takes off his shirt.

“No! Stop! Don’t! You don’t have to!” My brain finally allows me to speak, cycling from horror to panic, with only a momentary pause for lust.

I’m so glad I was too tired to stop by the Catacombs last night; I’ve felt like shit all day, but at least the meager amount of blood left in me doesn’t allow for my embarrassment (or anything else) to show. My face stays pale, even though Simon Snow is standing before me wearing only his socks and his pants. His own face is turning tomato red, but before I can track how far down his chest that blush will go, he grabs his discarded shirt and clutches it to him like a Victorian maiden trying to preserve her modesty.

He pulls the shirt over his head and steps into his slacks as he stutters, “I’m gonna- go, erm- the library- yeah, um, I’ll meet Penny- uh, bye,” and then shoves his feet into his trainers and practically runs out the door.

All I can do in response is collapse onto my bed.

_Fuck me._


End file.
